Under the branches Where the tall grass grows, There’s a people who hide And no one knows. The way they survive Is like none other, For they fear the world And all its terror. They hear the voices And see the shadows, They live in darkness And shake and cower. They live but In harsh conditions, Making the craziest Rash decisions. Everyone wants To put them to death, But I say stand up And fight for who’s left. The problem doesn’t lie In the heart of the ******, But in the mind Their thoughts are filled with typos. They twitch and hide And want to die, But nobody sees The demons inside. The voices that haunt them The nightmares that stick, The noises torture them Jumping off the highest peak. Terror and delusion The river that roars, The horrible psychosis The mania implores. These people know nothing But how to live, With the horrible fate That they’ll never be saved.
I have no idea why it ended up how it did when i copied an pasted it from another document i had it in so i apologize for the messiness. I feel like it adds more perspective to what the poem is talking about anyway so I'm not going to bother to fix it